


The Eye of the Tiger

by loveinadoorway



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-07-07
Updated: 2009-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinadoorway/pseuds/loveinadoorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I like to challenge my bow-legged boy wonder. Okay, I also like to slash him, of course. This hopefully will lead to both. What happens when Dean learns things that make his world yet a little less black and white, yet a little less easy to navigate?</p><p>EDIT 29.06.2015: This story will not be continued and will remain unfinished!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**SPN - The Eye of the Tiger, pt. 1/?**_  
 **Title:** The Eye of the Tiger, pt. 1/?  
 **Characters:** Dean, Jasper Demerel  
 **Pairing(s):** Dean/Jazz  
 **Rating:**  NC-17? Maybe R? Not yet, though.   
 **Word Count:** ~1329 so far  
 **Disclaimer:** I know, I know. Don't own much, but hell, Jazz is MINE and has been mine for years. At least inside my head. Except for his name. That belongs to Georgette Heyer, LOL!   
 **Warnings:** Sexuality, violence, porn, language.  
 **Artwork:** Done by the awesome [](http://lightthesparks.livejournal.com/profile)[**lightthesparks**](http://lightthesparks.livejournal.com/)  used with gratitude and.. errm... SQUEE!  
 **Summary:** I like to challenge my bow-legged boy wonder. Okay, I also like to slash him, of course. This hopefully will lead to both. What happens when Dean learns things that make his world yet a little less black and white, yet a little less easy to navigate?  
Are shapeshifters the monsters he always took them for?  
He's been attacked by one, what will happen now?

So I am giving Dean a Weretiger for... xmas... his birthday ... AssPr0nTuesday? Whatever!

 **  
**

Eye cut 1

It was dark and warm.  
Dean couldn’t move. He was tied to some kind of cot. Broad leather cuffs held him practically immobile. Very sturdy leather cuffs, like they used in psych wards.  
Still he fought them.  
Couldn’t help it.  
Wasn’t in his nature to be complacent  
.  
A deep, dark voice said “Don’t even try. This is for your own good.”  
“Untie me and then feed me this dumbass line again,” Dean growled, beside himself with rage.  
He had no recollection whatsoever how he got here.  
“I am not your enemy,” the dark voice continued.  
“Sure, cuz disembodied voices in the dark who tie you up are always your safest bets for being friendly. Bollocks, asshole.”  
The pain snuck up on Dean, right at this point. He felt like his whole left side was on fire. He raged against his bonds again, trying desperately to break free. He smelled copper and knew he had managed to rub himself raw trying.

“Easy, Dean. Please listen to me.”  
A man stepped into the small circle of none-too-bright light.  
He was built. Not broad, like a body builder, but tight and lithe, like a martial arts fighter.  
Dean tried to gauge the guy’s strength – not that it would do him any good, until the damned bondage shite came off.  
The man had black hair and cornflower blue eyes.  
Handsome fucker, Dean thought.  
Now where the hell did that thought come from?

“You were bitten by a Spreader.”  
“A what?”  
“Now is not the time for big explanations, Dean. You’re going to stop being lucid any minute now. In fact, I am surprised you still are.”  
“Fuck you.”  
The man took a deep breath, obviously trying not to lose his temper.  
“Please believe me that I am only trying to keep you safe. Well, and alive, if I can.”  
“Yeah right,” spat Dean, right before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Dean thought he was going to hurl from the intensity of the pain that now seemed to engulf his entire body in black flames.  
He was being tortured by faceless figures, forever and ever and the pain was so intense he knew he was going to die from it.  
He screamed his head off, as the world faded out.

Eye cut 2

“You shouldn’t have brought him here.”  
Jasper sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Bill had a point there, of course. You didn’t bring a Hunter into a Were’s home.  
But the man had been attacked on Jasper’s turf and so it was his responsibility to take care of him.  
“What would you have me do, Bill? Leave him out in the woods, to deal with this on his own?”  
“Put him out of his misery, would be what came to mind first, truth be told.”

Bill Davidson’s face was grim.  
With a bite like that, the Hunter’s chances were slim to nil. He would probably die from the poison – and die horribly, too.  
“Might’ve been more merciful to put him down, Jazz.”  
Jasper shook his head.  
“He’s strong, he can make it.”  
“Shit, Jazz, and then?”  
“And then we will see.” Jasper said, more curtly than he had intended.  
He didn’t wish to continue this conversation.  
It didn’t change a thing, he should’ve taken the rogue down, before it had had any chance to hurt anybody. And that made Dean Winchester his responsibility.

Jazz stood in the basement room with the Hunter.  
There was nothing he could do to help, really, so there was actually no reason at all why he should put himself through the wringer by listening to the man’s screams.  
No reason at all.  
Except…  
Except Jasper Demerel wanted to be there.  
Wanted to make sure the Hunter was still breathing.  
Needed to believe Dean could survive this, even though he personally had never seen anyone pull through with their mind intact.

Dean was running through a black maze.  
Someone was after him and he urgently needed to find his way out of this fucking maze before the monster reached him.  
His body was still on fire, hurting something awful, making it hard to move, let alone run.  
His lung felt like it was going to explode and he kept losing track of the direction he was running in.  
He kept slamming hard into the walls of the maze, hurting himself even more in the process. He was dripping blood as he ran, his whole body getting rapidly slick with it.  
His breath sounded like sobs.

Jazz stood with his hand outstretched.  
He couldn’t quite understand the fascination, but he was simply dying to run his thumb along the Hunter’s jaw line.  
Feel the ginger stubble rasp over his skin.  
Brilliant, he thought wryly, fondling an unconscious man who might be dying on top of it all.  
Still, he couldn’t resist.  
He placed his hand along Dean’s neck and moved his thumb slowly back and forth. The man’s skin was hot and slick with sweat.  
The stubble made a whispering sound as Jazz ran his thumb over it.

There was a cool hand on his neck.  
That was the only part of him that wasn’t burning up, that wasn’t hurting.  
He felt pretty sure the monster wasn’t going to get him while that hand was there.  
One finger was rubbing along his jaw. Dean could feel himself relax.

Jazz stepped back from the cot.  
Dean hadn’t even flinched when he had touched him, hadn’t given any sign at all that he even noticed.  
The Were ran his hand through his hair. There was absolutely nothing to do except wait for the fever to run its course.

Dean was screaming for the hand to come back.  
Instead, the monster found him.

Eye cut 3

He was lying on a cot and it was dark.  
He was in pain and he was in panic.  
He had come to a few moments ago – or maybe it had been hours, nothing seemed certain anymore - and he could not remember how he got here.  
Nor could he remember who he was.  
And that had sent him into mindless panic.  
Mindless, duh.  
His mind was a jumble. He found it hard to concentrate and he suspected he drifted a lot in between bouts of lucidity. Hard as he might try, he just couldn’t get any sort of order into the chaos inside his head.  
Was he insane?

Suddenly, there was someone beside him, perched on the edge of the cot. The man put a glass to his lips and made him drink.  
“Easy, Dean.” A low, gentle voice said.  
“Dean… Is.. that my name?” he asked, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.  
There was a long pause.  
Then the man said carefully: “You don’t know who you are.”  
“I don’t know a thing,” he rasped. It hurt to talk.  
“Don’t worry; it will all come back to you. You’re safe here. I won’t let any harm come to you.”  
Strangely enough, he took comfort from that.

He awoke in a sunlit room.  
The window was open and he could hear birds singing.  
He tried to sit up.  
Red hot pain shot through his body. He looked down to see that his torso was bandaged.  
The door opened and the man from the night before came in.  
“Good morning, Dean.” He said calmly and put a tray with breakfast on the nightstand.  
“How do you feel?”  
“It hurts when I move. And talking’s not so good, either.”  
The man chuckled and said: “Then don’t.”  
He looked at Dean, eyes grave again.  
“Do you remember anything yet?”  
“No. You call me Dean…”  
“Dean Winchester. You… you are a Hunter.”  
“Did a bear get me then?”  
“You’re… not that kind of a hunter. You hunt evil things, monsters, ghosts, vampires.”  
“Yeah, right.”  
Not only was he going crazy, he was in a madman’s home, too.  
Perfect, just perfect.  
.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like to challenge my bow-legged boy wonder. Okay, I also like to slash him, of course. This hopefully will lead to both. What happens when Dean learns things that make his world yet a little less black and white, yet a little less easy to navigate?

_**SPN - The Eye of the Tiger, pt. 2/?**_  
 **Title:** The Eye of the Tiger, pt. 1/?  
 **Characters:** Dean, Jasper Demerel  
 **Pairing(s):** Dean/Jazz  
 **Rating:**  NC-17? Maybe R? Not yet, though.   
 **Word Count:** ~1329 so far  
 **Disclaimer:** I know, I know. Don't own much, but hell, Jazz is MINE and has been mine for years. At least inside my head. Except for his name. That belongs to Georgette Heyer, LOL!   
 **Warnings:** Sexuality, violence, porn, language.  
 **Artwork:** Done by the awesome [](http://lightthesparks.livejournal.com/profile)[**lightthesparks**](http://lightthesparks.livejournal.com/)  used with gratitude and.. errm... SQUEE!  
 **Summary:** I like to challenge my bow-legged boy wonder. Okay, I also like to slash him, of course. This hopefully will lead to both. What happens when Dean learns things that make his world yet a little less black and white, yet a little less easy to navigate?  
Are shapeshifters the monsters he always took them for?  
He's been attacked by one, what will happen now?

So I am giving Dean a Weretiger for... xmas... his birthday ... AssPr0nTuesday? Whatever!

 **  
**

Eye cut 4

The burning pain from the chest wound showed no sign of letting up.  
The madman had brought him soup and lemonade and had to all intents and purposes sounded perfectly sane the whole time, except for that sentence about monster hunting.  
Dean gingerly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He tried to push himself onto his feet, but it hurt so badly that he gasped and fell forward instead.  
He hit the wooden floor hard and saw sparks as his wounds made contact with solid ground.

Dean heard a soft “Fuck” from the door and then he was lifted back on the bed.  
Lifted. Like he hardly weighed a thing.  
Jasper’s hands skimmed lightly over Dean’s stomach as he tried to make the wounded man more comfortable.  
Something raced through Dean at the touch. Something wild, primal and hot. A growl escaped from his lips and his hands locked around the other man’s wrists.

Jasper didn’t move a muscle.  
Was this the beginning already?  
Or just the Hunter’s instincts taking over, even if the man didn’t recall a thing?  
“Easy there, just trying to get you comfy.” Jazz kept his voice calm and neutral and moved slowly out of the Hunter’s personal space until he could feel the man relaxing slightly and Dean let go of Jasper’s wrists.  
When the Were looked up, Dean’s face was blank, except for the strained line around his lips that spoke another language entirely.

“Next time you want to get up, give me a holler. You’re in no shape to be walking around.”  
He pulled back in one carefully timed and very slow motion.  
“Guess so.”  
“Where did you think you were going in the first place?”  
“Away from the guy who talks about monsters seemed like a good idea.”  
There was an edge to Dean’s voice.

Jazz sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was damned inconvenient that the Hunter had lost his memory. Damned inconvenient indeed.  
“I won’t talk about that anymore until you have regained your memory.”  
“About that… what the hell happened to me and how did I get hurt like that, really?”  
“That topic is hard to delve into when I just more or less promised not to go there anymore.”  
Green eyes were staring hard into Japer’s blue.  
“Okay then. Tell me. With the monsters.”  
Somewhere in that guy’s delusion, the truth would be hidden.

Had he thought he’d get at least a glimpse at the truth from that freak?  
Bullshit.  
Werewolves. Rrrrright.  
And the creature that had attacked him? A what? A spreader? One who was contagious, who could spread the shapeshifting disease?  
And now he had to stay there until the next full moon, until they could be sure he wasn’t gonna shift? Holy guacamole, how diseased did you have to be to come up with shit like that?  
He had to get out of there the first chance he got.

Eye cut 5

Jasper stared at Dean. It was pretty obvious the Hunter wasn’t buying a word of it all.  
He sat down gingerly on the bed again and held out his right arm.  
He had never before shifted in front of a human.  
Not many Were could do this. It was the mark of the alpha, the pack leader, to be able to will the change to come to a part of his body only.  
He allowed his lower arm to change.

Bones shifted, muscles rearranged themselves and reddish-golden fur with black stripes grew.  
Along the paw, the fur was white and he flexed his muscles to unsheathe the claws.  
“I turn into a tiger. I am the pack leader, if you will, even though tigers aren’t as closely knitted into packs as wolves, for example. If you need to touch to believe, you may do so.”  
It took a lot of willpower to stop the shift there and even more to allow the human to touch him like that.

Dean was staring in complete and utter disbelief.  
He reached out almost on instinct and stroked the soft fur.  
A jolt of energy zinged through his body.  
He felt his cock taking a definite interest in things it sure as fuck wasn’t supposed to be interested in. Just like before, when Jazz had touched him, the feeling was completely untamed and deeply erotic.

Dean didn’t pull his hand back, though.  
He firstly and foremostly needed to make sure that this shit was for real. That was what he telling himself, at least, as he clamped down on that surge of desire.  
So he let his fingers trail down the arm towards the paw.  
He gingerly touched his index finger to one of the unsheathed claws, fingering the wickedly sharp tip, then following the curve to where it vanished into a nest of fur.  
He rubbed his finger between the pads and Jasper made a sound that almost sounded like a purr, while his claws flexed slowly.

Eye cut 6

“Okay, that… was… weird,” Dean said slowly after Jasper had pulled his arm away from Dean’s probing hand and had changed it back.  
“I am really only trying to keep you safe, Dean.”  
Jasper’s voice was low and husky and he was pointedly not looking directly at Dean.  
He needed time to put the expression on his face back to neutral, so that the Hunter couldn’t see the naked desire his touch had brought on.

“Okay. You proved your point. That shit is real. And if it is, you’re probably not lying about the safe keeping part, either.”  
“Are you hungry?” Jasper asked as he slowly widened the distance between them.  
“Yeah, starving, actually.”  
As if to underline that statement, Dean’s stomach gave a loud rumble. They both laughed at that.  
“Think you can manage something more substantial than soup?”  
“Definitely.”  
“Burger okay with you?”  
“Awesome!”  
Jasper nodded, got up and left the room.

Dean watched him until the top of the Were’s head vanished from sight on the stairs.  
His cock gave an appreciative little twitch at the sight of Jasper’s ass in motion.  
Dean groaned, leaned back and tried to remember if he had always been gay or if this was a new thing. It felt new and untried and weird and much too good, but he just wished he could remember if that’s what he usually wanted when face to face with a gorgeous man.  
There was nothing, though, just a kind of white noise and some disjointed images that he couldn’t piece together.

There was a brief flash of a tall, lanky guy, but the emotions that came with the image, a mix of annoyance, worry and affection, made him feel like family, not like a love interest.  
Some memories of a house, a black Chevy Impala and a fire.  
Random shit like playing pool and drinking beer, sitting in a butt-ugly motel room.  
None of these made any sense, really, except that he couldn’t help worry at them like at an aching tooth. He thought that if he kept poking them long enough, something else would come back to him.  
He could feel the first twinges of a headache form over the bridge of his nose.

Jazz returned with a tray full of food.  
Dean grinned broadly at the sight of a burger with some roast potatoes on the side.  
“Guess I don’t have to ask if that looks good to you, then,” Jasper said, smiling.  
“That’s fucking perfect, man. Thanks.”  
Jazz couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the obvious glee with which Dean attacked the burger. After a couple of bites, Dean paused to grin at Jazz again, giving him the thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t clutching the burger as if someone might turn up out of the blue and prize it from Dean’s unwilling fingers.


End file.
